Risen From the Grave
by JessicaRae95
Summary: A grotesque shadow is haunting both the World Above and the World Below. With nothing to go on except the description of a 'walking tree', Mouse sets out on a journey to find the haunting shadow, unaware that it may be a ghost from his past. Set between Shadows from Above and A Heart of Glass. Please Read and Review! Vincent/Catherine OC/Mouse
1. Chapter 1 - The Shadow

_This story takes place between Shadows from Above and A Heart of Glass, after Scarlett and Mouse are engaged, but before they are married :)_ _this story is dedicated to Skippy._

The tall lank figure loped quickly and quietly down the darkened alleyway, a grotesque thin shadow on the wall. Twisted as a live oak, the shadow crept along the brownstone wall, until it reached a large, square iron grating in the wall. A wandering passerby- if walking nearby - would hesitate, fearfully and silently watching the spectacle. They would have seen the slim shadow deftly remove the iron grating and slip beyond its dark confines, replacing the grating once it had gone inside. The passersby would shake their head in confusion. A shadow can't remove a grating, can it? They would suddenly hurry along their way, looking back every now and then; they would be expecting to see the reaching, clutching fingers of the Thin Man grasping for their throats, and his ghostly blank face gazing soullessly into theirs. Rumors began to swirl. Stories began to fly. Fear began to run wild Above in Central Park.

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The Great Hall doors had closed, and Winterfest was over. The soft candlelight had been extinguished and tunnel dwellers had made their way back to their tunnels and chambers. Life would resume its normal, everyday existence; the tapping of the pipes continued in succession - a quickly moving code that only Pascal could figure out. Pascal was a gentle, mild-mannered middle aged man who took it upon himself to keep the traffic of the pipes in order and running smoothly. He was softspoken and fiercely devoted to those Below that he worked for. On this particular day, he was getting settled in after Winterfest, and was working busily at the pipes.

"Pascal, don't you ever get tired?"

Sitting nearby on a heavy pipe, swinging her legs under her, a young woman watched him running to and fro, sometimes tapping on pipes and sometimes listening.

He paused for a second and glanced at her with his wide, kind eyes. "Not at all, my child. I enjoy what I do. It has been handed down in my family and it never gets old for me."

Scarlett laughed and leaned back on the pipe to read the book she held in her hands, _Great Expectations_. Her eyes, mismatched right blue eye and left brown eye, drifted away from the pages and to the ceiling. Above them, the yawing cavern of the pipe room was a subway of pipes, each one carrying tidings and well wishes,and requests, to the recipients, in fast order. It was mesmerizing. Pascal was moving like a well-oiled machine. She began to let her thoughts drift, wondering what each message was, and trying in vain to decipher some of them. They danced across the pipes, a melody only Pascal's ears could enjoy.

"Scarlett, Pascall!" Vincent entered the corridor, his lion-like features gentle and kind. "Have either of you seen Mouse?"  
At the sudden voice speaking into her half dazed stupor, Scarlett sat up, rubbing her eyes. "Yes - Vincent - he has gone down into the lower tunnels to fix something for Narcissa."

Vincent nodded and smiled, shaking his head at the sleepy face. "When you see Mouse, tell him we have need of a repair on the north tunnel. The grating at the Brownstone entrance is loose."

Scarlett nodded. "Sure, Vincent. I will tell him. Where will you be?"

A playful smile crossed the lion-man's face face and he began to walk away. Scarlett ran after him, clutching her book to her chest, and catching his cloak in her free hand. "Wait, Vincent! Where will you be?"

Vincent put a strong arm around her shoulders and walked with her back toward the tunnel he had come from, which led to Father's study. "Promise you won't speak of it?"

Scarlett laughed and nodded quickly. "I promise, Vincent."

"I am going to see Catherine Above."

Scarlett blushed and smiled. "Well, I won't keep you then. I will go check in with Father."

Vicnent patted her shoulder. "I will see you later, then." He gave her a mischievous wink, then was gone.

Scarlett shook her head, a smile on her lips. She continued down the tunnel toward the great Study where Father could usually be found. She ran one hand across the hewn walls, mind drifting away to her first days Below.

A victim of a domestic violence crime, Scarlett had been discovered Above by Vincent. She had been brought Below to recover and had been accepted by the kind Tunnel dwellers. After a crazy time of adventures and dodging Paracelcus, Scarlett and Mouse had fallen in love and become an engaged couple. Their wedding was to be a first below, and for the one and only time other than Winterfest in it's entire history of existence, the Great Hall doors would be thrown open for celebration and excitement. It was still two months away, but the women below were in a whirl preparing decorations, garland, and pearly white candles.

Scarlett had been so distracted that she did not realize that she had stopped walking. Around her, the faint tapping of pipes still rang. She shook her head. This getting lost in her own mind was getting annoying. She knew it was because she was in love. That always messes with people's concentration. "Love me or hate me, both are in my favour. If you love me, I'll always be in your heart... If you hate me, I'll always be in your mind." Scarlett spoke to herself. William Shakeaspeare had quite the grasp of how love worked, she determined. Shaking herself to reality, she proceeded down the tunnel. To the right was the entrance to Father's well lit library. Just as she was about to step inside, her glance fell on the bend in the tunnel farther down the way. A tall, grotesque shadow was creeping down the tunnel away from her. It was twisted, and thin, and looked like a live oak tree walking down the tunnel. For a moment, she could not breathe. What on earth was it?

"Father?" Maybe he had left the library, and the shadows created by the candles made him look strange? She walked down a little way toward the shadow, but as if sensing her presence, it quckly rushed away into the darkness.

"What is it child?" Father's voice spoke suddenly from behind her.

She skrieked, and jumped, whirling to face him.

"Easy, now, little one. You look as though you have seen a ghost." Father held out a gentle hand, as if coaxing her to come back toward the light.

She gratefully accepted the pillar of strength that his firm hand offered to her shaking one and let him pull her into a hug. She glanced back down the tunnel. What on earth had she seen?

"Are you okay?" Father asked kindly, his dark eyes showing concern. His trained professional eye quickly looked her over to see if she was hurt.

"I'm okay, Father, really. I was coming to hang out with you for a while cause Mouse is helping Narcissa with something, and I got to here," At this point, Scarlett walked back to where she had stood at the entrance to the library. "I was standing here, about to come in," She pointed down the tunnel. "Then I saw - " Here she hesitated, confusion written on her face. "I saw - " her hand dropped to her side, and her eyes turned to Father's face, also confused. "I saw a tree walking. I mean, it looked like a tree. It was all twisted, and tall and thin. It was - very strange." Here her voice trailed off as she realized just how strange her explanation sounded when spoken outloud.

Father looked down where she had been pointing and strode cautiously over to examine the tunnel. There was no trace of anyone having been there. He frowned, glancing at Scarlett. Common sense told him that there was no evidence of anyone, but he could tell that the intense fear he had clearly seen on Scarlett's face had been genuine. "Well, my child." Father took her hand and steered her toward the warm, cheerful library. "Let's see if a little tea and reading can cheer you up. I will have Vincent look into this when I see him again."

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"Vincent!" Catherine set down her book, and smiled. Vincent stood tall in the open doorway of the patio, outlined against the shadows of the night sky. "Come in!" Catherine waved him in.

Vincent dropped lightly into the room, his cat-like tread making no sound on the plush carpet. "I just wanted to see you." Vincent said quietly, his soothing voice sending a chill down Catherine's spine that was not caused by the chilly night air. The curtains moved slowly in the breeze, playing with strands of Catherine's hair and blowing them gently across her face. She brushed them away with a light sweep of her hand. She made a lovely picture, wrapped in a pale pink dressing gown, a steaming cup of tea nearby on the nightstand.

"How good of you to come." Catherine replied, rising to let him wrap her in his strong arms. "You were not seen?" She buried her face in the rough homespun of his attire.

Vincent breathed in the scent of her hair, before finally replying. "No, I was not seen. I came to spend a quiet evening with you." He withdrew a book from within his cloak. "I thought some reading on the veranda might be nice?"

Catherine tapped her chin thoughtfully. "It's a bit chilly. How about reading on the couch? With the lights dimmed? There's more tea." She playfully smiled at the massive man that towered over her, admiring the strong features, and the kind eyes that gazed down at her, and feeling safe in the shelter of the gentle giant.

"That sounds - perfect." Vincent said softly, pulling her close and brushing one paw across her hair.

They stood there for a few moments, silent in the confort of each others embrace. They did not notice the tall, thin shadow that moved across the veranda. Grotesque arms reached for the railing and swung the long figure over the edge, and out of sight.

 _Oh my goodness, you guys! The writer's block for this series is gone! It hit me like a beam of light out of nowhere, and I am on a roll! Please read and review!_


	2. Chapter 2 - The Sightings

Chapter 2

 _Oh my goodness, a rough week at work, but I had to put up a chapter this week at least. Hugs and prayers for Skippy! Get well soon!_

"Arthur!" Jamie scowled at Mouse's playful raccoon who sat perched atop her bookcase. The quiet little alcove in her room that Jamie had created had become a quiet and peaceful hangout for the chattering little furry wanderer. Mouse had spent so much time with that new girl named Scarlett that Arthur had decided to take his wounded pride to the top of the quiet bookcase and was curled up with his ringed tail laid smartly over his shiny black nose. His masked eyes were closed, presumably asleep.

Jamie stood below him, arms crossed in indignation. "Arthur, you come down from there right now. It's bad enough having you knock over my lantern to get up there, but I do not want a raccoon nesting on top of my bookcase. You could have set the place on fire. Thank goodness that I didn't have it lit. And look what you did! My books are all out of place. And where did the cookies go that were in this jar?"

She huffed and set down the clear glass jar that once held her tea time snack and determinedly reached up and pulled the curled up raccoon off of his perch. "Arthur, I know you are sulking, but please go sulk somewhere else and stop messing up my things."

Arthur chattered furiously for having been woken up so dramatically and dragged out of his warm bed, then glanced at her with dark beady eyes, and then averted his gaze to look around the messy room. Jamie could have sworn she saw confusion cross his little bandit face. Arthur really didn't seem to appear guilty. She looked around the room, confused as well. If it wasn't Arthur that had wrecked the place, who was it? The little children never came this far into the tunnels into her room. She threw Arthur across her shoulder and stepped out into the tunnel. Perhaps Mouse would take Arthur back to his room. Glancing back inside the bedroom as they left, Arthur saw a tall lanky – tree? – rise from the far shadowed corner, and make its way slowly toward the entrance where Jamie stood. Arthur felt afraid. The fur on his back stood on its end, and his black eyes were wide inside his mask. His little whiskers started twitching and he began to trill loudly. "Jamie! Jamie! A tree, a tree! A moving tree! Jamie, run away! Quick, a tree!"

Jamie, who of course could not understand him, pulled him off of her shoulder and turned his pointy face to hers. "Arthur, I do declare. You are such a nuisance. Wait till I tell Mouse you ate my cookies. Now do be quiet and let me listen to the pipes and see if I can find out just where your owner is at."

Arthur frantically chattered and pointed with one tiny hand back into the room, where the tree had frozen in stark silhouette on the stone wall, unmoving and larger than life.

Jamie shook her head and tucked the raccoon under her arm and walked quickly away down the tunnel. Arthur scrambled to look over her shoulder again, and then tucked his head under his paws, hands over his eyes. The tree had slipped out of the room, and hesitated for one moment, its clawing, reaching arms shadowed against the wall. Whiskers trembling, Arthur dared to peek again. The peculiar tree was gone. The raccoon shook his head and he squinted, his shiny eyes narrowing suspiciously. What on earth was that strange apparition he had seen?

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Mouse ran lightly through the darkened tunnel, his curly hair bouncing slightly. He had been deep in the tunnels helping Narcissa with a small cave in. Now, he was hurrying higher into the tunnels trying to get to where he could hear the tapping of the pipes to learn the latest news. He felt as if he had been in the dungeon for a while. The cave in had taken much more of his time than he had planned. The faint tapping began to swell through the silent tunnels, and he paused to press his ear against one lone, thin pipe. His face, streaked with grime and dust, was shadowed in the torch that lit the way of the traveler.

He determined that there were no urgent messages, and continued his return to the living tunnels. He entered Pascal's little communications center and smiled. "Pascal – messages for Mouse?"

Pascal moved across the aisle to listen carefully and tap on a thick pipe. "Mouse, Vincent said you needed to fix" Here Pascal hesitated and tapped some more on several other pipes. He listened carefully to the tapped response then turned back to Mouse's eager face. Pascal raised one eyebrow. "Mouse might want to look in a mirror. Anyway, Vincent said that the Brownstone entrance needs repair. The grating is loose and we don't want anyone to discover that it is a door to our world."

Mouse nodded quickly. "Mouse takes care of it now. Pascal - seen Scarlett?" 

Pascal turned to face the young man, and paused, his length of pipe resting on his broad shoulder. Mouse's face was aglow at the mention of his soon to be bride. Pascal felt a little tug in his own heart, and wondered what such a feeling would be like. "Yes, my boy. She headed to the library to wait for you."

Mouse waved. "Thank you, Pascal."

He was away and gone, so quickly, that Pascal for a moment wondered if Mouse had really been standing there five seconds ago. He shook his head and turned back to his work.

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Far away in the offices of the District Attorney, a well-dressed man sat across from Joe Maxwell, Deputy DA for the borough. Joe was speaking to the strange man, a frown between his eyes.

"And, Mr. Warren, you are sure you can track this thing down?" 

The man leaned forward, placing his elbows on Joe's cluttered desk, his hard, calloused fingers steepled under his chin. "Oh I can assure you, Mr. Maxwell, the creature is all but within our grasp." His face held an expression that Joe didn't particularly like.

Joe leaned back in his desk chair, turning slowly from side to side, tapping his fingers on the arm of the chair. He glanced at the strange man again. "And do you have any idea what this – thing – is?"

The stranger frowned. "I would prefer not to say, until we have some better leads."

Joe Maxwell sighed. "Look, Mr. Warren, there are rumors going around that there is a strange – tree – that is walking around the city. No one can report exactly where or when or how this thing is parading around, but it is a definite situation. I cannot run a city in the 'City that Never Sleeps', when there is a strange creature running around frightening everyone. I am not sure where you came from, as I myself did not call you, but if you would like to offer to our city your – unusual - services, then I suppose you can be of use to us. I will meet with you tomorrow after I have obtained permission from the mayor for your purpose, say about three in the afternoon."

Mr. Warren stood and bowed stiffly. "Thank you, Mr. Maxwell. I shall return at that time."

Joe nodded, "I will see you then."

Mr. Warren strode purposefully down the hall, waving politely to the ladies still closing up the office at the end of the day, and nodded to the secretary. Right outside the door, a taller, thin man stepped into stride with him. Mr. Warren's face became hard and drawn. "He's going to let us, Jax. Maxwell is going to give us free reign of the alleys and the city. We are going to track him down like a rat. Maxwell won't know, and we just take care of things and tell him that we've lost track of the creature. No one else will see it, and after a while the whole thing will be forgotten. He's right within our grasp."

The man called Jax pulled his hat lower around his eyes. "Good going, Axel. We have all the tracking dogs kenneled at Rocko's place. As soon as you get the go ahead, let me know. We will start tracking right away. Remember, the boss wants him taken alive."

Axel Warren grunted, and pushed his meaty hands into his pockets. "Oh, we will, Jax. Don't worry. We want him to pay for his deeds. Him and all his other little rats."

Joe watched the broad shouldered man stride purposefully from the room, and rubbed his face. "Maxwell, you are working too hard. Having a stranger showing up out of the blue saying he can rid this massive city of its rogue tree figure that is scaring the night life to pieces is probably something that you should be reading out of a drama novel not deciding to implement yourself. It might be time to consider taking a long vacation."

He picked up his phone and dialed Catherine.

" _Hear my soul speak._

 _The very instant that I saw you did_

 _My heart fly to your service, there resides_

 _To make me slave to it, and for your sake_

 _Am I this patient –_ "

The shrill ringing of the telephone interrupted Vincent's gentle reading from Shakespeare's "The Tempest". Catherine carefully untangled herself from his embrace and reached for the phone. "Catherine Chandler."

"Hey, Chandler!" Joe's peppy voice jolted into her relaxed brain and made her jump. Vincent slipped a comforting arm around her and pulled her close again, as if coaxing her to return to their little moment. She rolled her eyes at him. "Hi Joe, what's up."

"Hey, so I had a guy come by a bit ago to let me know that he will look into the walking tree rumor and see if he can figure out what it is."

Catherine frowned. "Joe, what about the tunnels?"

Joe was silent for a moment. "Yeah. Yeah, that won't work will it. Nope, too risky. I can't agree to let him help, Chandler, but I can't stop him either. You might want to let everyone know to be aware."

Catherine sighed. "Joe, I will talk to Father and see what he says. Joe, are you sure that this isn't just a trick to find the tunnels or Vincent?"

Joe frowned again. He hadn't thought of that. "I don't know, Chandler, but I will think of some way to stall them."

In the darkness outside, the branches of a small tree moved away in the shadows. It moved quickly toward the shadows of the brownstones and was lost in the blackness.


	3. Chapter 3 - The Three Shadows

_Favorite chapter so far to write! Thank you all (and Skippy!) for the reviews and support. It is much appreciated!_

 _On to the next chapter!_

"Alright boys, we have the prime chance to catch these rats, if we play our cards right. Joe Maxwell down at the DA is going to consider getting us permission from the DA to scour the town for the – tree creature. I want everyone to be polite, normal human beings, if you see anyone from town act like common folks. No violence, no underhanded stuff. We want to appear as calm and businesslike as possible. You got that?"

The hulk of a man leaning on the table and starkly backlit by the lights of an old pickup truck running in the garage they were gathered in, gave no impression of allowing room for any errors. He meant business. Jax, the thin man from the visit to the DA office, sat down next to Axel Warren, the spokesman at the DA earlier this evening.

"Hey, take it easy Rocko. The DA had no idea why we were there. He's gonna think that we are after the creature that is scaring his town and making him look bad. Instead we are going to take over and then we are gonna try to solve the problem and get the rats."

The big man called Rocko slammed a massive hand down on the table. "Quiet! We are going to find these rats whether the DA allows us or not. Jax, you are going to be on surveillance. I need sightings. ANY sightings. Whether it's the school kid on the corner or the old lady at the bakery, I need everything. Axel, you're with me. On evidence. Find tracks, familiar paths, or something. We need to find these varmints. But don't jump until I say so. We don't want to alert anyone until they are in our grasp. We are after him most of all, before someone finds him. We can get the rat and the other one afterwards. No one knows he is loose so we have to be careful. If they find him before we do, then it's all down the drain and we are in the slammer. Be on the workout. If they find him, we are gonna lam out of here. If we can make it to the subway before anyone finds us then we are on our way. If not, then I'm gonna beat both of your heads in and no one will ever find your bodies."

The two men before him glowered at the husky leader but nodded in unison.

"Sure, Rocko." Jax grumbled.

"Yeah, no problem," Axel smiled thinly. "Now worries. We are only after the rats and then we will move on to bigger and better things."

Rocko nodded. "Alrighty then, boys. Let the cat and mouse chase begin."

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Mouse tightened the last screw in the grating. "There. Mouse done."

He studied his handiwork then nodded once. "Okay, good. Okay, fine." Mouse leaned against the grating and studied the outside world beyond its confines. It was nighttime in Manhattan. Stars twinkled high up in the night sky, barely visible through the amber glow of the streetlights. Cars could be heard rumbling by in their busy thoroughfares a few blocks away. The Brownstone entrance was outside Central Park, where the busy world went by of its own accord, and used mostly as an entrance to the Tunnels by the Helpers. They entered, however, by a grating in the sidewalk at the back alley of the brownstone house. The grating in the concrete wall was no longer accessible as it was too obvious to passersby. He leaned against the grate and took a long, relaxing breath. The combined smells of the many restaurants down the block wafted toward him, and gently reminded him that it was almost time for the dinner that Winslow had been preparing all evening.

He picked up his tool bag and began his lengthy journey back to the deeper tunnels. Behind him, in the blackest of the shadows of the night, the wiry figure of the mysterious tree crept toward the iron grating and tugged on it sharply. The metal would not budge an inch. If a passerby crept closer, they could vaguely make out shaggy tufts of blonde hair, and long tanned fingers firmly grasping the grating. The homespun clothing on the thin figure appeared to be quite like that of the tunnel folk, except much more worn and tattered. The arms of the figure were twisted, and frightening, as well as the bow and arrows swung over the twisted shoulder. But the angular, hard face held no emotion. The figure leaned into the grating, calmly gazing after the contented Mouse disappearing in the distance, piercing blue eyes following him until he disappeared around a dark bend in the tunnel.

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"Are you alright now, child?" Father carefully poured more black tea into Scarlett's small cup, glancing kindly at the worried creases in her normally relaxed complexion. "There now, don't worry so. Vincent will figure it all out for us. There hasn't been a Crisis yet, and I am sure there won't be one tonight. I just don't think I am up for it, to be honest." Father smirked as his snide commend brought a slight smile to the pale young woman's face. "I am getting too old for Crisis. And you, my child, have a wedding to plan. Has Mary given you a candle count yet?"

Scarlett shook her head, grateful for a chance to think of something different. "Yes. She said we will have thirty white candles and thirty blue ones." She blushed slightly, a smile erasing the terror that had once been there. "She also said she and Rebecca are decorating a lower cavern for the honeymoon down by the lower branch of the underwater stream. It is far enough away from the lower tunnels that we won't be bothered by anyone, but also not so far away that Paracelsus will be a threat." At the mention of the terror of the lowest tunnel's name, she shivered and gulped down her tea. "It sounded pretty when she described it. The light of the fluorescent crystals down there reflect in the running water and one almost does not need candles to light the way."

Father smiled gently and filled their cups again. "Sounds quite lovely, my dear. And what will Mouse do with Arthur the raccoon during this time? I am sure Winslow would be happy to cook raccoon stew for the ceremony."

Scarlett laughed outright at this statement. "Oh, don't worry, Father. We thought that out. We are going to leave him with Mary. She is going to be a good, dear angel and keep an eye on him. I cannot imagine the chaos that a week with Winslow would cause."

Father laughed heartily at the idea of Winslow keeping the pesky raccoon in the kitchen, and took her smaller hand in his own calloused ones. "Remember this, little one. Mouse alone cannot make you happy. You must find that happiness on your own."

Scarlett was still not used to the kindness of the Tunnel folk. She could not hold Father's steady gaze, instead glancing down at the work worn hands that held hers, hands that should have been surgeon's hands. Tough hands, steady hands. Hands that should have been gentle and soft, caring for his patients in a cozy little corner practice with Sinatra playing in the waiting room and little candles on the counter. Instead, these hands had slaved and toiled over rock hewn walls and dirt floors. The kind face was care-lined with concern from treating patients with meager supplies and lack of medicine. His strength had built an empire underground Manhattan for the weak and homeless. And his kindness had endeared himself to everyone that he cared for. "Father," she finally spoke, looking back up to his face. She found sympathetic eyes gazing back at her.

"Yes?"

"I feel so – lucky. It feels a bit like a dream to be honest. You all have such a lovely place down here, and I don't feel like I belong."

Father sighed. "Nancy," he used her given name in an effort to hold her attention. "You came to us with so much to learn, so much distrust to cast aside. We are pleased to have you with us, and it has been really good for Mouse as well! None of us really belong. We are all part of an ever-changing kaleidoscope of stories and histories and hearts."

At just that moment, Mouse entered the quiet library. "Father, Brownstone entrance fixed."

Father turned to look at him, giving him a rare smile. "Thank you, Mouse. I appreciate the quick response. How is Narcissa?"

Mouse leaned over and hugged his soon to be bride. "Doing well. She is all set. Cave in did not much damage." Father nodded, satisfied that all was well.

Mouse turned his attention to Scarlett. He planted a kiss on her forehead and she smiled up at him, a tentative smile that did not reach her eyes. She took one of his hands in hers and held it to her chest, resting her chin on it.

Mouse frowned. "Scarlett okay?"

She nodded slowly, but Father interrupted. "She had a bit of a fright, Mouse. There was a shadow in the hall that scared her. I couldn't see anything, and it didn't appear that there were any footprints, so there was no need to cause alarm. We are having a bit of tea now, and seems like it has helped calm the nerves a little."

Mouse cast a worried glance at Scarlett and brushed a finger of his free hand across her cheek and tucked it under her chin, tilting her face to look directly at him. His kind eyes took in the fear he had grown to recognize and he smiled. "Scarlett okay, or want to walk a bit?"

He knew her well enough to know that she was still nervous, but hiding it for Father's sake. She glanced at his calm face and saw understanding written there. She sure couldn't hide anything from her fiancé.

"The lake?" She asked hopefully.

Mouse smiled mysteriously. "Nope. Mouse has better idea."

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"Mouse, it's beautiful!" The last turn in the tunnel had opened into a huge steamy room of mineral springs. The same springs that fed the bathing chambers as well as the showers in the women's chambers deeper in the caverns. Mouse smiled, a bashful glow on his face. His characteristic crooked grin, somehow seeming cheeky at the moment, made Scarlett momentarily forget her fears and worries. Mouse walked away to a stone bench and picked up something from its seat. It was a homespun towel and robe. Mouse waded into the warm water and held out his hand for Scarlett. "Scarlett come."

She eyed him cautiously. Her past experiences sometimes hindered her acceptance of this backward young man with the crooked smile. She did not respond to touch very well, as not much of what she had received was gentle or kind. Mouse had never given her reason to doubt his sincerity or honesty. Now he stood waist deep on the stone steps, holding out a hand to her. She smiled back at him. Carefully avoiding the wet rocks, she slipped off her jacket and waded into the warm water with him.

"Mouse, you know I can not swim," she said in a quavering voice, quickly grabbing his left hand for dear life. Her breathing was already panicked and Mouse held her hand and placed the other free one on her right shoulder. He looked straight into her eyes.

"Easy, Scarlett. Mouse knows. Mouse wont let harm come. Relax." He put his left hand around her shoulders and the right around her waist. "Come deeper, Mouse hold you."

Scarlett squeezed her eyes shut as they walked together to deeper water. Mouse smiled and reached a hand to brush back her hair, leaving a dripping trail down the side of her cheek. He took in the perfect curves of her face, the mismatched eyes catching the glow of the candles around the room in their depths and reflecting it back to him, and the long lashes. Her brow was still furrowed, partly in fear of the water and partly because she was struggling to trust the hold Mouse had on her. He whispered gently, "Mouse hold tight. Going to hold you in water. Lay back -relax and Mouse hold you up."

The second that her feet left the stone floor, she panicked, grasping his arms with both hands. "Mouse, Mouse, I can not swim. Don't let me drown!"

He held her tightly against his chest. "Easy, easy. Mouse got you. Just lay back. Mouse will not let Scarlett drown."

She did as he instructed and was pleasantly surprised to find that she did not sink. Mouse kept her head in the crook of his right elbow to ensure that she did not dip below the water. His other arm was securely beneath her knees.

"See? Mouse has Scarlett. Now rest - rest- think happy things." The steam around them had brought a condensation to his face that was strangely becoming with his features.

Scarlett smiled up at him. "Like the wedding?" Her eyes were partially closed as the relaxing warmth of the water swept away the fears of the hall experience of this afternoon.

Mouse smiled. "One week."

She sighed and nodded. "Yes. One more week. Father seems so happy about it."

Mouse ran a dripping finger across her forehead, sweeping away the red hair now tightening into curly ringlets in the steam. "Everyone happy. Mouse very happy." He smirked and winked at her and she laughed.

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed."

Mouse chuckled. He leaned down and their foreheads touched, his dark eyes boring into hers.

"Scarlett sure she still marry Mouse?"

Mouse spoke breathlessly, his voice quiet and questioning.

Scarlett nodded almost imperceptibly. Her breath caught in her throat and she could barely reply.

"A thousand times, yes."

Far above them, in the black shadows of the cavern walls, a thin figure crouched in the darkness. Blonde hair glowed in the blackness, visible only to one looking for it. Solemn eyes watched and listened, then moved on.

Even farther above, another figure was standing casually by the Brownstone entrance to the tunnels. The grating was tested for removability and resolutely held firm in its repaired state. Grumbled words were spoken into the darkness, then the sinister figure moved on.

In yet another place, a second sinister figure sat with powerful binoculars, lenses focused squarely on one particular balcony in Manhattan's high rises, an evil smirk on his terrifying features.


	4. Chapter 4 - The Sad Story

_This story has taken so long to update, I apologize! I took it with me on vacation, then my wifi wouldn't work on the plane, then the plane we came back on didn't even have wifi, and then my coworker was suddenly put on bed rest, cause she is expecting, so we had to scramble and get all the loose ends put together, and in the meantime this has been dancing around in my head. Finally! Back to updating. For those of you following Breaking Down Barriers, the next chapter will be up soon!_

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The tranquility of the stone caverns slowly washed away and stress and anxiety that Scarlett was feeling. She gazed up into Mouse's face, the man she had pledged her love to and thought back to the days that the Brooklyn four had been running around the dark streets of New York. Beany, Randal, Mouse, and she herself were as close as close could possibly get. A sort of four musketeers, they were all rejects from the society of Above. Mouse, a scientific genius, was the inventor and the mastermind that kept them fed. Randall, the bookworm, had ways of finding out anything they needed to know. Beany, the quiet one out of the four, was also a skilled hunter and tracker. He kept them safe. Scarlett, the gentle one of the four, kept them all clothed, cared for, and cheered up. She was also the only one of them that had any family still alive Above, but she spent more time in the New York alleys and subways than in her own home. They had spent several years together, the four of them, until that fateful day that Mouse had only slightly alluded to when Scarlett first came below. And on that day, their lives changed dramatically.

A simple experiment. That's all it was. A flimsy piece of machinery, spliced into cables mistaken for electric wires, was set up in an old building in Lower Manhattan, its use not quite determined yet. The four musketeers were there together, spending a late night experimenting, as usual. Mouse crouched with his tongue stuck in the corner of his mouth working on the final touches. At a prearranged signal, they stepped back and Randall flipped the switch on the wall assumed to actually turn on the electricity in the building. In mere seconds, massive blasts of dynamite began to detonate on all of the floors above them. Deafening rumbling filled their ears. The walls above them began to shake. Explosions of intense magnitude began to go off around them. In seconds, Randall was knocked down by a dynamite cell near where he had stood. Beany was lying motionless nearby beneath crumbled pieces of concrete. Mouse stumbled, deafened, and bleeding from multiple injuries, away from the scene of tragedy, his mind scrambled from the intensity of what had just happened and was still happening around him. He did not remember his friends or what had happened for a long time. Scarlett was found unconscious at the scene a little later that evening by the police that came to investigate and was sent to the hospital where she remained for weeks, in a coma, forgetting the cause of her physical and emotional pain. Her friends became a hazy memory of what seemed like a past lifetime, or perhaps a distant dream. She and Mouse did not see each other again until the night she was brought Below by Vincent, and it was to the great astonishment of them both. Mouse had been quite discombobulated before her arrival (ever since his own introduction to Below) so it had seemed a good thing that he had found his former friend, and now gentle soulmate. They had not dared to mention the events of that terrible day since their renewed meeting and, for some reason, at this exact moment it had come back to Scarlett's mind as if it had been yesterday. It was time for closure.

"Mouse?"

Mouse, who had been lost in his own thoughts, jumped as he was brought back to reality. He studied her for a second, and then reached a dripping hand to brush back the damp hair from her face. "Yes, Scarlett? What are you - thinking of. You seem - troubled."

"Remember the Brooklyn Four?"

Mouse's face crumpled for a moment. "Yes. Mouse remembers."

They stayed still in silence, the gentle splashing of the water in the cavern drifting their thoughts back to that day and they held each other close, not daring to let their minds remain too long in that awful place.

The dawn began to creep over the skyline, finding Catherine snugly tucked into bed and the figure of Vincent long gone from under its cover. He entered the library, his long cloak whirling behind him, to find Father sipping tea, his chin resting in his strong hand, brows furrowed in thought.

"Hello, Vincent."

Vincent nodded. "Hello, Father. What is wrong? You seem upset."

Father sighed and turned his full attention to his son. "Vincent, there was a situation while you were gone."

At that moment, Jamie ran into the quiet library, complete terror engulfing her. Vincent caught her as she nearly fell, talking so fast that neither man could understand her. Arthur was hanging onto her shoulder, his beady black eyes also wide with fear. On top of that, he was chattering so loudly, that it was chaos for a moment. Vincent took him into his arms, petting him carefully, while the little raccoon clung to his robe with tiny paws, and hiding his masked face in the folds of the cloth.

Father gently pushed the shaking Jamie into his chair, and set a cup of tea in her hands. "Drink."

She glanced helplessly at him, an expression that clearly indicated that she did not think they had time for tea, but the stern look on Father's normally passive face quelled her silent protest and she dutifully drank down the hot spicy liquid.

Once she was done, Father took the cup and knelt beside the chair. "Now, Jamie," he said calmly, taking one of her shaking hands in his own. "What happened?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came out. She closed her eyes, and desperately tried to calm her nerves, hot tears escaping her dark eye. "There is someone in the tunnels."

No words could have ever been spoken that would strike more fear into the hearts of the people Below.

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Elsewhere, Above in Manhattan, an abandoned factory loomed against the skyline in stark contrast to the concrete rising around it. Grimy newspapers blew in the dry night air and rustled against the drain pipes like a herd of tiny mice. Grotesquely twisted arms reached for the first floor window sill and pulled the lean figure over the edge and into the room beyond, landing in a surprisingly clean room. He pulled a bow and arrow quiver from its place secure on his shoulder and tossed them to the floor.

"You have returned."

A hunched over form sat nearby in the shadows, not looking directly at the new arrival. "What have you discovered?"

The thin faced figure that had entered crouched near the heating vent in the corner of the room and picked up a metal sheet which he carefully placed over the window. It would block any light from reaching a passersby's keen gaze. He did not answer the direct question, but set about igniting a fire in the furnace. The dancing flames revealed a hard face, devoid of any emotion. Pale, angular, cutting jawline and bright blue eyes that appeared distant and lost. "I saw them." His hair was blonde and shaggy, falling into his eyes as he leaned over the fireplace.

The voice that spoke was deep and could have been called gentle if the slight sneer at the end of the sentence had not turned his upper lip in such a disdainful way. "They are there."

The figure in the corner nodded once, and was quiet for a moment.

"Your heart is confused, isn't it." The figure spoke again, his words a question, but his tone a statement. His voice calm and steady, but with no malice, trailed off as he returned his gaze to the floor.

The silent man sitting by the fireplace absently rubbed one thin, tanned hand across his other arm, following its twisted shape. "My heart is not confused, Andy. My mind is."

"Ian," the still figure spoke even more quietly. "It's not the same. Nothing will ever be the same."

"Andy, what if-"

The hunched figure rose from its resting place, drawing itself to its full height in the dancing shadows of the flames.

"Do not question what-if's, Ian. They lead to a forever lost way of thinking. Wishes don't make dreams."

The cryptic speaker shuffled over to stand near the flames, revealing a scarred face, haggard and grey. Eyes that contained the sorrows of the world gazed calmly at the blonde hunter.

"Ian, the world is divided. People go their separate ways. They cannot be expected to remember. Time forgets. Sorrows are buried. Fears are forgotten in the light that another can bring to a black soul. We have each other. Let the past rest."

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"Alright, Jax. Here is what we have so far. The rat lives somewhere near the Manhattan factory district. An average time for him to show up in Central park is around midnight. He forages near the downtown area, and is back out by dawn. We lose him then. I think he makes use of the sewer tunnels to disappear from our view. Just a little longer, and we will have him."

Rocko, the boss, gazed angrily at his two henchmen, unhappy that they did not have better information. He studied Axel carefully. "You and Jax had better get me some better news. Also, remember we are after that Vincent too. He is worth a lot to us, and what is more, the Underworld would pay a great deal of money for a creature like that. He goes to the apartments some nights. I want you on that lead, Axel."

The man called Axel nodded, tapping his chin. "Right on it boss. You do realize that if the DA lets us take control of the tunnels we can go in there like an extermination crew and flush them all out into the daylight?"

Rocko slammed his fist into the table. "I don't want them all. They are little mice down there that I could care less about. I want Vincent and I want the rats."

Jax shrugged. "I fail to see your fascination for –"

Rocko wrapped a large hand around his henchman's throat. "Do not question my orders, fool. I have my ways. I have my reasons. Vincent is a menace to all of the security of the Underworld. He is unique, an unusual specimen. They will be glad to have him. Once we turn him in, and the rats, we get enough money to get out of this joint and retire to an island in the Caribbean!"

Both henchmen whistled appreciatively and for a moment Rocko seemed almost calm. Then his face swelled into an ugly shade of red and he pounded on the table again. "But that won't happen if you two don't bring them in! Now MOVE!"

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"But I saw it, Father!" Jamie cast desperate glances between the two men that stared down at her. "It was a tree and I saw it. It moved. Even Arthur saw it, and he was almost scared right out of his skin."

Arthur pricked up his tiny ears and nodded, as if to agree with what Jamie was saying. Man, had he seen the tree! And it was huge to his little eyes.

Father shook his head. "Vincent, it is the strangest thing. Scarlett said something about seeing a shadow in the hall a while ago. I thought she was just seeing things."

"Scarlett and I do not just 'see things', Father." Jamie retorted, her chin set firmly, and her fear turning into a resolve. "I know what I saw and I would stake my life-"

Father held up his hand. "I know, Jamie, I trust you, my child. I just cannot figure out what is going on." He kindly refilled her tea cup, but she could see the worry and concern in the furrowed brows."

Vincent laid a gentle paw on Jamie's shoulder. "Father, I will take Winslow and William and try to investigate. Give us a couple hours."

Father sighed and nodded. "Give it a try, my boy. Good luck." He swept out of the room with Vincent.

"Vincent, move quickly. I feel as if something terrible were about to happen."

 _Thank you all for your patience! I promise there is some real action coming next!_


	5. Chapter 5 - The Silent Watchers

Thank you all for reading! Means so much!

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Father paced briskly around the library, care and worry lining his aging face. Furrowed brows were knit above withdrawn eyes clearly indicated he was lost in deep thought. Arthur was resting near the tea table, his ringed tail tapping his nose every now and then. Jaime was trying to appear like she was read a leather bound copy of Wordsworth, curled into Father's chair, but her eyes also had a glazed expression that indicated that her thoughts were elsewhere.

"Jamie?"  
Father spoke so softly that Jamie at first did not hear him.

"Jamie." A slightly more commanding tone brought her from her thoughts and she closed the book quickly and turned to face him.

"Yes, Father? I didn't-" Her voice trailed off as she caught a glimpse of a tall, twisted figure walking quickly past the entrance of the library.

She whimpered and pointed with a trembling hand, curling up as tightly as she could in Father's chair, and turned pleading eyes to Father. "That's him!"

Father nodded, a hand held up to silence her outburst, and he watched the figure pass by. He reached for a tall candlestick sitting on the bookcase, and advanced in the direction of the silent figure. When he reached the hallway, it was empty, and there were no traces of a visitor.

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Vincent walked silently along the silent caverns of the phosphorescent lake, his keen ears catching a slight movement to his right. He turned quickly, poised like a cat to jump. His eyes scanned the rocky ledges of the cavern, looking for any sign of intruders. The trickling of the lake combined with the wind blowing through the tunnels and its shimmering glow gave a very surreal touch to the moment. Standing straight as an arrow, a thin figure was poised against the gazing down from a high ledge. With a start, Vincent realized that the figure was gazing straight at him.

"I have been expecting you."

The calm, and even keeled voice of the intruder sent vague chills down Vincent's spine. This was unlike Vincent. Usually he was a warrior, leaping to protect those he loved. Right now, he was having trouble determining if the figure was real or a product of his stressed imagination. Maybe the phosphorescent lake really was magic as Narcissa suggested.

"Who are you and why have you come?" Vincent spoke as calmly as he could, but his voice still held its harsh edge.

"Who I am is of no concern. Why I am here is for everyone to sit up and notice."

Vincent hesitated, and then nodded. "Then come down and we will discuss it."

The figure stood for a moment, then moved into the shadows. Vincent waited silently, almost willing himself not to breathe, trying to find the direction the strange figure would appear from. He could hear nothing.

"It is important that you pay attention."

Vincent snarled and whirled toward the figure that had spoken, having approached silently to his left. This instinctive reaction brought no response from the strange man. He gazed calmly at Vincent with the bluest eyes Vincent had ever seen. His thin, sharp face held no emotion, its features pale in the blue glow. A bow and arrow quiver was nestled over his shoulder, the bow held loosely and non-threateningly in his right hand.

"Your appearance does not frighten me, Vincent."

"How do you know my name?" Vincent growled, starting to feel more than a little confused. His gentle demeanor was not forthcoming as his defenses arose. He wished he had brought Winslow with him.

"I have been watching you all for a long time." The strange figure paced slowly back and forth. "You must listen to what I have to say. There are a team of rat hunters from Above looking for you. They are also looking for me and a friend. I have eluded them and I have led them away from here. They keep returning. I cannot keep them away. But I have determined you must refrain from going Above until they have left the area. They know of your nightly forays to the apartments. A friend and I are trying to lure them away from those endangered but our success relies solely upon your cooperation and the cooperation of the community below."

Vincent stood up straight and tall. "You must come speak to our council. Father will want to hear of this."

For a moment, the strange man's face softened. "Some of yours were once some of mine. Tell Father to have all entrances sealed, have Catherine come below and remain there until I send you a message. Pascal will hear it come through on the pipes."

With that, he moved toward the entrance to the cave room as if to leave. Vincent dove after him, grabbing one of the figures arms to restrain him. Immediately he let go, having encountered an arm that was thin and twisted, strangely disfigured. The light of the corridor reached the place where they had stood, casting a twisting shadow over the rock wall behind the figure.

"You are the tree." Vincent spoke softly, a gentle tone returning to his voice.

For a moment, the confusion on the young stranger's face was evident. "I am what?"

Vincent smiled kindly. "Well, several of our community had reported seeing a tree walking around. You have even been seen above, Catherine tells me."

A dark glimmer crossed the strange man's face and he jerked his crippled arm out of Vincent's grasp. "Not anymore. I will lead them far, far away. They will not hurt anyone. They will not hurt my friends."

Vincent shook his head. "Wait, friends? You know someone down here?"

"A few."

Vincent ran a gentle paw down the grotesque tanned arm, and spoke quietly. "Well, since you know so much about us, I think I at least deserve to know your name."

He hesitated for a moment, gazing into the dark eyes of the lion-man before him, a mere toothpick next to the broad giant of a man. "Ian."

He walked quickly and lightly away from Vincent, disappearing from the cavern, then swung himself lithely over the rocky cavern rocks and was gone.

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"He knows someone here but apparently no one her knows him." Father paced the library, hands clasped behind his back. "Either that or he is a pathological liar."

Vincent shook his head. "No Father. I felt it from him. There is a deep hurt inside him and he feels lost from everyone. But there was a very real concern in his heart."

Father shook his head. "You and your feelings. Whatever is happening, I insist on the sealing of the tunnels. Vincent, you will have half an hour to retrieve Catherine or send her a message. At the end of that time, all entrances to the tunnels will be closed. I will have Mary gather the children."

"Father," Jamie spoke suddenly. "Kipper went Above to take candles to Dr. Peter."

"When did he leave?" Father asked quickly, his face becoming even more drawn with concern, if that was even possible.

"He is here."

All heads turned to find Kipper standing at the entrance to the library, the strange man from the cavern standing next to him. Kipper looked calm, but he kept glancing at the stranger in curiosity.

"I have returned him safely. In one hour, the District Attorney will grant the wishes of two hooligans in disguise and give them permission to search the highways and biways of Upper and Lower Manhattan in search for Mouse, Scarlett, and Vincent. They are also searching for me and my friend Andy. Andy and I will be safe. We have our own means of disappearing. But the rest of you will need to remain hidden and silent. I suggest a mass exodus to the Great Hall below the Wind Chambers for the most protection. No one will venture past its gale. Keep everyone quiet. I will return when all is clear."

Father stepped forward. "Pardon me, my boy, but why do you know so much about us and why are you helping us?"

Ian raised his chin proudly. "I do not abandon my own."

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Catherine sat across from Joe Maxwell, tapping the rim of her coffee cup with one finger. "I just don't understand, Joe. Where did these two men come from? And why are they offering to get rid of a phantom that no reputable source has seen, without having been sent for by a reputable citizen or department. It isnt like the NYPD is calling them in to action. We have to consider everyone this may affect."

At this statement, she and Joe gazed at each other, volumes spoken in that silence.

Joe leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk, and steepling his fingers. "Well, Chandler, we will see to it that no one is affected by these - hoodlums."

Catherine nodded, a smile creeping across her face. "Thank you, Joe. I appreciate your concerns and the priveledge to share my world with you."

Joe chuckled. "Nah, dont think a thing of it, Chandler. Someday maybe I will be a part of your world. For now, let me call the police chief and get an APB out on those rats."

A light knock on the door interrupted them and Joe Maxwell rolled his eyes. "Always knocks at the wrong time. Come in!"

The door to the office swung open revealing a tall, thin figure, a hooded cloak hanging from thin shoulders hiding its face. "May I enter?"

Catherine and Joe glanced at each other in surprise. "Uhm, sure, come in. Can we help you?"

The fogure stepped into the office and swung the door shut behind himself, one hand skillfully turning the lock, and then leaned against it.

"My message is for the Lady."

Catherine smiled one of her gentle smiles and nodded "That would be me."

The queer messenger stepped forward and spoke quietly. "You must go Below immediately. Both of you. The evil men are on their way and you will be no match for them. Your father is sealing all entrances. You have fifteen minutes to get Below. After that, my assistant and I will take down the ring."

Catherine stood and stepped toward the man. "How do I know I can trust you?"

The figure tilted its hooded head to one side. "I have sent you to your safe place. With Vincent protecting you, I would not send you there if my wish was to harm you."

Catherine shook her head. Who was this strange person that knew of Vincent? She stepped closer and reached for the thin hand that hung below the brown cloak's sleeve. "What is your name, messenger?"

The hand she had taken was hard and warm. The hooded head remained tilted to one side but she could not see the face. "Please let me remove the hood." The figure flattened itself against the door, and did not speak. She gently took hold of the hood. The homespun cloth was rough and scratchy in her hands. The figure reached up amd grasped her wrists in his hands but did not pull her away. Catherine thought of Vincent and steeled her nerves. Nodding encouragingly, she gently pulled back the material to reveal a gaunt scarred face. The greyish skin was streaked with silvery burns and dark scars. But what caught her attention was the pride in the dark eyes. There was no shame. There was no cowering in terror.

She studied the face calmly, hiding her own emotions. A kind smile hovered on her face and she traced one of the lines with her thumb.

Joe Maxwell was not so serene. "Oh my goodness, kid! What happened to you?!"

Merely a young man, the figure held his shoulders tall. His straggly dark hair fell to his shoulders. Ignoring Maxwell's violent outburst, he took Catherine's elbow in his gentle grasp. "Come. There is not much time."

He stepped away from the door and opened it, revealing Axel, one of the evil henchmen. "Got one!" He shouted, diving for the strange young man. He quickly closed the door, slamming one of Axel's hands in the frame. The hoodlum bellowed, "Get this door off of me, you freak! You rat!"

The stranger smirked and opened the door a slight crack and as soon as the hand dissapeared, shut it quickly and turned the lock.

He turned to Catherine.

"That way will not work, now. Come, I will show you a hidden entrance."


	6. Chapter 6 - The Reunion

I am so sorry, you guys. Have had a bit of a rough time, Writer's block and some depression. But spent some time in the tunnels and I am feeling a lot better. here's the next chapter, please review!

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Far away in another town, the door of a colorful trailer in a circus lot opened, and its occupant stood leaning in the narrow doorway. He tapped one long, thin hand in the doorframe, impatience very clearly portrayed on his fake-smiling face, the light reflecting off a large diamond ring on his left hand, and the riding crop in his right..

"You know that I do not like to be kept waiting, Rocko." His voice was congenial but cold as he tapped the riding crop on his right thigh.

Rocko, the evil mastermind, pushed roughly past the tall, lanky man and stepped outside into the shadows and grunted angrily. "Not our fault, Mr. Roman. The freaks keep getting away from us. They are – smarter than the other ones."

Mr. Roman stepped out of the light, for a moments revealing hard, glassy eyes, and a dark mustache above a glowing, lit cigar, then disappearing into the darkness, leaving only his shadowy form.

"Mr. Rocko, I assure you, I am aware how squirrely these freaks can be. We had those two in cages if you remember and - somehow - they escaped in the proverbial dark and stormy night. But you are the 'normal' person, aren't you, my dear Rocko, and you should be able to – dare I say- outwit them? Hmmmm?" He raised dark eyebrows in disdain, but its effect was lost in the darkness. The tone of his voice was not.

Rocko snarled again, but did not speak, glaring at Mr. Roman with an expression that could have killed if it had a way to do it.

An oily smile spread across Mr. Roman's face, clearly enjoying the suppressed anger of his henchman. "I thought so. Two more weeks, my dear Rocko. That's all I can spare you. After that, then the deal is off. You get no money, I get no freaks. And I – ahem – may report you for trafficking and I dare say you would not want that. Now go. I have no more time to spare."

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The silence in the Pipe Room was almost overwhelming. Father, Ian, Vincent, and Winslow had gathered there with Pascal after Ian's return from Above with Kipper. Ian stood in the shadows, turning every now and again a listening ear toward the corridor outside. He had ordered an all-quiet on the pipes, and assured them that he was waiting for news of his friends arrival with Catherine, as well as news from the helpers. He seemed oblivious the small crowd that stared at him, his blue eyes never making contact with anyone else, and appeared lost in his own world of thoughts. Winslow sat in a corner, chin in his large hands, dark eyes watching the silent man like a hawk on a mouse. Father stood between the strange newcomer and the rest of the tunnel folk, as if in protection of his family. He still was not sure if he could trust Ian. He didn't know new people very well, and Ian was no exception. And the fact that Ian had been traversing the quiet tunnels for weeks with hardly a sighting unnerved Father greatly. There was a little voice in the back of his head that had begun to speak when he had left the world Above, leaving behind those that had wronged him. A voice that was named Over-Cautious. That little voice was nagging at him right now, asking a million unanswerable questions.

"Who is this strange man?"

"Will he betray us?"

"Will we have to leave our home?"

"Will we have to keep him here forever so he doesn't give us up to Above?"

No. He couldn't go that far. Father could never take someone else's freedom to maintain his own security. He knew what it was like to be afraid, running from someone, and hiding for your life. But there was a part of him that would defend his people at any cost and it was this part of him that he was worried about.

He studied the gentle face of the intruder, the twisted limbs that he kept close to his sides, the angular jaw that was set in a grim frown, the hollow eyes that carried a century of hurt in them. This man had been through hell and back, it was obvious. No, they would work it out somehow. He glanced at Vincent for help, but the gentle lion-man's face was fixed on Ian as well, as if trying to see inside his head.

The silence of the pipes was still being honored by the helpers Above. They were waiting for news. Anyone with any information on the impending attack on Below was given the opportunity to tap in their message. Pascal leaned against the wall nearby, his tapping pipe hanging loosely in his hand; his expression clearly showed how lost he felt in the silence. The tapping of the pipes was music to his soul and right now he was drifting on a sea of silence. he gazed round the room

Mary had gone immediately to the secret tunnels with all of the children, and a tapped message has been sent to Mouse and Scarlett to come to the Upper Tunnels.

Father began to pace, his hands clasped behind him. He remembered having told Jamie that he was not ready for a Crisis. Having one suddenly thrust upon him was not what he had planned. He turned to find Ian standing behind him and he flinched as the young man placed a twisted hand on the older doctor's shoulder. He spoke in a low voice.

"Trust me, sir. I assure you no harm will come to you or your people. Once Catherine is Below, we will launch our attack. These men are only after us. They may have heard of Vincent but it isn't likely. My friend and I are - different - and there is a man that - purchases - unusual people for his show. He has a black market circus. People like my friend and I fetch a lot of money in that market."

He paused as a small growl escaped Vincent's throat. "I can't imagine what he would bring in that market. But anyway, our goal is to lead them from you. We have been running from them for years."

Father was gazing at his intruder in horror. "Buy you? But you are just a boy!"

Ian smiled dryly and stepped over to the lit lantern on the wall.

"Just a boy, sir? That may be what you see. But the world sees a terror. A - what did Jamie call it - a walking tree? Not hardly normal in the world Above."

Father gritted his teeth. He knew what Ian was saying. But he swallowed his anger at the evil masterminds of Above and nodded his head. "Just a boy, Ian. Don't forget who you really are."

There was a gentle light that sprang into the hurt blue eyes at those words, and he reached his twisted hand to take Fathers outstretched one. At that moment, a tapping filled the silent room and Pascal jumped out of the trance he was in as a result of the kind moment he had just witnessed to resume his post. He listened for a moment, eyes wide in concentration.

He turned suddenly to face the small group. "Two messages, Scarlett and Mouse have arrived in the Upper Tunnels and are on their way here. Also, Catherine and someone named Andy are passing Dr. Peter's place and he is coming down with them."

Vincent had been watching their visitor closely. He had felt a connection to the young man, and he knew the pain the young man felt. Betrayal in a World he was once a part of, and all because some sort of hell had twisted him into a mangled shadow of what he apparently once was. It was a story Vincent was very familiar with. He shared a bond with Catherine built of love and pain, from both the World Above and the World Below. He also shared a different bond with Scarlett, built only from shared pain and suffering. he could not sense her joys and cheer, only when she was suffering and in pain. It was the only language he seemed to speak Below. It was as if a curse was upon him to share in the sufferings of his fellow man, because his own suffering could never be completely removed. He felt the young man's pain and subconsciously reached out through the bond to encourage him. But Vincent met a brick wall. Ian was not open to the bond. He wasn't going to share his feelings. His eyes met Vincent's for a moment, and he nodded kindly, but the brick wall remained firmly in place. Vincent nodded and withdrew.

At that moment, Mouse and Scarlett hurried into the Pipe Chamber, a little disheveled from their recent mad dash to the surface. Mouse spoek hurriedly, "Okay, good - Okay, not fine, no not fine, intruders, seal tunnels? Mouse on it at once!"

Father held up a gentle hand. "No, no my boy, Ian is in charge of this battle. We are waiting for Catherine to arrive."

The slightly miffed expression on Mouse's face was quickly changed to first fear, then a slight glimpse of hope. "Ian? Can't be, just can't be!"

Scarlett too was frozen in shock, and Father rolled his eyes. "Can't you two be more subtle than that. There's no need to be rude and stare."

Mouse turned a suddenly pale face to Father's gaze, and his mouth opened and closed but no words came out. Father frowned. "What on earth is the matter, Mouse? You look as if you have seen a ghost."

Mouse shook his head. He had completely lost his voice. Scarlett's lip was trembling and tears were beginning to well up in her eyes. She suddenly ran to Ian and threw her arms around him. He gently wrapped them around her and rested his chin on the top of her head. He met Mouse's gaze and a clear acknowledgement passed between them. "Hi Scarlett. Hi Mouse. Good to see you again."

batbbatbbatbbatbbatbbatbbatbbatb

Catherine, Joe, Dr. Peter and their hooded guide ran down staircase after staircase, finally landing in the basement of the DA building. Their strange guide took them quickly through a hidden door into the corridors of Below.

"Hey," Joe Maxwell exclaimed in surprise. "I didn't know this was here!"

Their guide never stopped walking, but spoke quietly over his shoulder. "There are a lot of things you don't know, Maxwell."

Joe paused and tilted his head on one side. "Yeah, guess so." He hurried after the disappearing figures of the guide and Catherine. "Chandler, what are we going to do about those guys?"

Catherine glanced back at Joe and Dr. Peter. "No idea, let's see what Vincent says when we get there. He will have figured it out by then, I am sure."

The small group arrived in the Pipe room shortly after Mouse and Scarlett. When they entered, there was momentary chaos as Catherine ran to Vincent, Joe and Dr. Peter shook hands with Father and Andy walked over to Ian, and they shook hands in a Roman handshake. Scarlett turned to look at the newcomer, and shocked surprise crossed her face again. She embraced Andy in a hug as well, much to the confusion of the small group. Winslow finally interrupted the confusion.

"Mouse, you care to tell us what is going on here? The intruder all of a sudden knows you guys? Who's to say he hasn't betrayed us to anyone above."

The whole group of people turned to face Winslow, and he glanced from one to the other and sat back down, mumbling about how he was only trying to help. Vincent laid a gentle paw on his shoulder and nodded. "We know, Winslow. We appreciate your concerns."

Mouse, looking small and nervous in the corner shook his head in a disbelieving way, and smiled at Winslow. "Okay good, okay fine, Winslow. Mouse and Scarlett not know - but now we do. The Brooklyn Four is back from the dead."

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Alright, please tell me in your reviews if you saw that coming! Cheers! Next chapter is in the works!


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